


Trying You On

by Twice2Ennien



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dancing, F/F, Intimacy, Kissing, Moira thinks she's smooth, Sym thinks Moira can get it, Textiles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13444032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice2Ennien/pseuds/Twice2Ennien
Summary: Symmetra has accepted Moira's invitation to the next Oasis gala, which has a very high standard of dress.





	Trying You On

"Ah, perfect! Mangoes!" Symmetra lifted a tie from the dresser with both hands, her expression triumphant.

"I beg your pardon?" Craning to get a better look from her seat on the bed, Moira found no satisfaction. "You mean paisleys?"

"That is what I said, mangoes..." Halfway through speaking, Symmetra trailed off in pursuit of another thought. Curiosity aroused, Moira slipped closer to read over the terminal window currently scrolling at Symmetra's right side.

"What a terribly fraught history for a tie," Moira remarked, largely to herself. Competing for the architech's carefully focused attention was a losing proposition. After a moment, the conversation resumed.

"I'll have to submit a bug to the translator. What a curious history," Symmetra echoed. With a faint smile, she extended her left hand to Moira. "For us it is a fortuitous coincidence. I have a sari that complements this."

Accepting the decision as made, Moira began to examine her shirts for a plausible backing color, then stepped back as the younger woman began removing options from the closet. It was Moira's closet, after all. Unless Symmetra decided to abandon all taste and fashion something neon yellow out of hard light, there _were_ only serviceable options. Well.

"What about this?" Moira smirked, removing a green-on-blue plaid shirt from where it had hidden near the back.

Symmetra's dictionary of expressions contained at least a dozen separate entries for disgust; the look she spared the taller woman in reply was somewhere beneath the smell of garbage and just above critical mission failure.

"So little respect for the Black Watch tartan?" Moira teased, projecting deeply wounded offense.

"I thought you are Irish, not Scottish," Symmetra replied without turning. A moment later, she paused at her sorting to find Moira with an unreadable expression.

"Gabriel thought it would be good for unit morale, to have some unifying colors." Moira replied lightly. "But you've done your research, mm? Consider me impressed."

"Good; then you will stop wasting my time with foolish suggestions," the younger woman concluded, pulling Moira out of memories and into a hearty laugh.

"How about a more practical suggestion, then?" she asked, stepping forward to clear the silky hair from Symmetra's left cheek with carefully raised eyebrows.

"You are not serious." Though outwardly focused on her task, Symmetra let her gaze wander, turning to meet Moira's with an echoing spark.

"But what's the point of all this fussing over costumes when you've no idea if I can even dance?" Moira's tone was so neutral Symmetra fell into a sharp frown before her reasoning caught up.

"How unfortunate for you to have asked me as your date if you cannot." Symmetra turned to face her tormentor, slowly and deliberately making eye contact. Moira blinked, drew herself up, and made a complicated gesture with her right hand; in response, music began to filter into the room from an integrated speaker. Symmetra stifled a laugh, producing a smile instead as she moved to accept Moira's proffered hand.

The music was soft but moved with a modern rhythm; Symmetra's trained ear brought her quickly past appraisal and into a suitable step. Moira led stiffly at first but seemed to relax as the chorus hit. An underlying concern that the older woman's threats were serious sighed in relief somewhere inside Symmetra. She would have to ask what habit had kept a detached lab-dweller in a hobby as sensual as partnered dancing. 

"Tolerable," Symmetra remarked, not unkindly.

"High praise," Moira responded, pulling the shorter woman away into a twirl.

Symmetra opened her mouth to chastise her partner on proper signalling when suddenly she felt herself falling. Moira had taken advantage of the spin's momentum and hooked her foot around Symmetra's ankle, holding her around the waist and making use of her other arm to break their fall onto the conveniently positioned bed.

"How clumsy of me," Moira deadpanned, her face inches from Symmetra's startled gasp. "And you were just being so kind as to pay me a compliment." She brought her free hand up to trace Symmetra's cheek as the younger woman's expression changed from surprise to brief irritation to triumph.

"You tripped me," Symmetra declared. "But now I have you pinned here, and I will exact my revenge." Moira's startled expression barely had time to register before Symmetra's left arm gracefully but firmly pulled her down for a lengthy kiss. Some part of the biologist's mind began a lecture on the fight-or-flight response and transfer arousal, which she cheerily kicked aside to focus on the latter.

**Author's Note:**

> An interested reader may enjoy the Wikipedia pages for "paisley" and "Black Watch" -- I can't guarantee the Overwatch dev team intended the historical reference, but it stood out to me. Special thanks to a quick play rando who called Moira Scottish.


End file.
